Brikwars Chat wrote:<colette>: YOU LINKED IT<Dilanski>: Literally.<mgb>: That's fine. I just look for feedback on things I write.<mgb>: Because I write things and they're good.<colette>: YOU COCKSUCKING GODAMN MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A FUCKING FÁGGOT MAGGOT<Dilanski>: #YOLO<mgb>: Bollocks.<Dilanski>: The Red line?<Egwene>: Does he have internet-tourettes?<colette>: GODDAMN YOU TO HELL AND LET YOU SUCK SATAN'S DICK YOU FUCKING ballerina<colette>: NEVER LINK TPS EVER AGAIN<mgb>: I don't even know<colette>: JKFRNJKRHIHFKSAJKHJRGALKJRKLJRGLKADHLGRSHDLRKJGLKHDZLKHKJJZFXKLGJZKLGFJSKLJLGKXF<colette>: RHRAJGDAKLJKLDJLGKJS<colette>: AGDSFADGDHTGFSGFSH<Egwene>: for an A-sexual, you sure use a lot of sex curses<Dilanski>: OH MY SIDES<Egwene>: stick to shit an stuff<mgb>: He has a banner on the forum we're from<mgb>: "Get psycho"<mgb>: He earned this banner.

<mgb>: I can no longer in good conscience share Shard with this room tonight.<colette>: Wow<colette>: we really fucked up didn't we<Scratch>: I was the innocent one<Dilanski>: We need to fuck up more.<Scratch>: for the first 10 minutes

Well tonight just full on imploded the chat. I'm not going to say I wasn't an accomplice to it, but it was Colette who kept posting snuggle stuff, and silva who finally full on killed it. mgb was cool as always.

At this point, silva started fagging the whole thing to death. Which was probably a good thing actually. Beyond here it gets really, really, painfully bad, so no screens.

Emperor Harlek of the MASS banged the goblet on the table before him as sort of makeshift gavel. He had assembled this meeting in the hopes of improving relations between the Allied Nations and the Third Alliance and perhaps getting feedback on his latest novel, but it seemed to be failing miserably.

The four delegates and the one empty chair were arranged in a pentagon. Emperor Harlek sat with a small dais and work-in-progress-book in front of him, wearing a magnificently ornate black helmet and military dress uniform. Siri, next to Harlek, was dressed in her usual red jacket and held that garish golden beamsaber. Across from her was Grand Admiral Dilanski, the supreme leader of the Praetorian Empire, in his regally dark blue armor and wild blond hair, intent green eyes staring down at Siri. In the middle was a mysterious Venetian figure wearing a Death Mask who refused to identify himself, apart from “Egwene”. Kaiser Klaus von Fynnvaria, as usual, was late.

“So, are international meetings always like this? I was told this was the second-best bi-chat in the brikverse.” Egwene asked.

“Well you see,” Harlek replied. “It wouldn’t have devolved this badly if they had just taken up on my idea of editing my newest story. It’s like Avatar the Last Airbender, only with a life and light tribe and a guy who can shoot crystals. I need help writing a drinking song for it.”

“Well actually” interrupted Siri. “I’m against bisexuals. But since I’m the leader of Trattoria, I will treat you in a friendly manner anyway. Unless you bring up TPS, in which case you’re fucked.”

Silence reigned in the room, except for dilanski, who had to stifle laughter.

“Douchebag?” offered Emperor Harlek. He was seriously irritated by the conduct of the delegates. Siri had been sharing disturbing stories with Dilanski, and they made his stomach crawl. He had a perfectly good book in front of him that he wanted feedback on, and those idiots destroyed their minds with that crap instead?

-----

“YOU LINKED IT?” screamed Siri.

“Knock yourself out, literally” Dilanski warned Egwene. Egwene had inquired about a certain story that Siri refused to share, so Dilanski had contacted the Praetorian Intelligence Division to find it and print copies for everyone at the meeting.

By now Siri was getting up from her chair.

“YOU COCKSUCKING GODAMN MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A FUCKING FÁGGOT MAGGOT” she cursed as she put her hands around Dilanski’s neck and started choking him.

“YOLO” he replied through the few breaths he could get out.

“Bollocks” muttered Harlek.

“Does she have Tourettes or something?” inquired Egwene.

“GODDAMN YOU TO HELL AND LET YOU SUCK SATAN'S DICK YOU FUCKING ballerina” she continued to shriek, lost in a mad fit of temporary insanity. “NEVER BRING UP TPS EVER AGAIN”

“I don’t even know” said Harlek, defeated.

“JKFRNJKRHIHFKSAJKHJRGALKJRKLJRGLKADHLGRSHDLRKJGLKHDZLKHKJJZFXKLGJZKLGFJSKLJLGKXF, RHRAJGDAKLJKLDJLGKJS, AGDSFADGDHTGFSGFSH.” At this point Siri stopped speaking coherently and began to degenerate into random noises.

“You sure use a lot of sex-curses for an asexual” pointed out Egwene.

“She has a nickname in the Third Alliance high command” Harlek clarified. “‘Get Psycho’. She earned it.”

-----

“Do it, Studs for the Stud God” declared Dilanski.

“Well, I don’t read these you know, I just stole them off a compilation.” Siri desperately try to exonerate herself from the terrible reading material that she had distributed to the meeting.

The discussion then devolved back to its previous degenerate state, involving shipping and terrible fanfiction.

-----

“And the poop is shaped like pwnies!” Scratch cheerfully suggested.

Emperor Harlek snatched the book off of the dais in front of him, pushing it deeply into his bag.

“I can no longer in good conscience share Shard with this room tonight.” The perverted and messed up leaders of the brikverse had defeated him. They had defiled this meeting, their minds, and their souls, and he would not allow such moral corrosion to destroy his precious work of fiction.

“We really fucked up didn’t we?”. It was a rhetorical question that Siri knew the answer too, as if she came to some epiphany.

“I was the innocent one-” Scratch protested.

“We need to fuck up more” declared Dilanski with an evil grin and a glint in his green eyes.

Less than 24 hours after my self-imposed exile from mibbit I am now back. Even for pedonuker that's got to be a new record.

Why do I subject myself to this.

(EDIT: Oh, and I haz mod powers, and this mainly goes for Dilanski, I will ban you as many times as necessary Tor or no Tor to keep the decorum of the room, so the events of last night are never repeated.)